


Battle Plans

by mieraspeller



Series: werewolf summer [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pack, Pack Family, Weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:24:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mieraspeller/pseuds/mieraspeller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Derek does know when to quit fighting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battle Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. If you see any mistakes or notice a warning that I should add, please let me know!

The sun has barely risen, but Derek is up and running. He’d had his least favorite dream again and Laura’s recriminating voice was still echoing in his mind when he woke. Outrunning his memories had never worked before, but he was always up for another try. Circling through the forest and avoiding trails at least gives him enough to think about to distract himself from his memories. Laying there in the stench of his own grief was too masochistic, even for him, especially when it was amplified by the musty carpet and rusted pipe smell of the shitty one room apartment on the outskirts of town that he’d rented after getting another warning from the Sheriff’s Department. Isaac was at McCall’s nearly all the time, so it’s not like he needed the extra space. 

Halfway back to the house, he catches the scent of diesel and teenage boy. This is the third time this week a high schooler has ended up on his doorstep, and this one in particular is the hardest to get rid of. At least Jackson is still intimidated by Derek, and sent Isaac out to get rid of Scott. 

“Check out what we came up with,” Stiles is calling, then he bangs on Derek’s door again. Ignoring him won’t make him go away, but Derek is tempted to do it all the same. People who show up at his house at six in the morning deserve no courtesy. And Isaac is out, as usual, so there won’t even be any snide commentary about being afraid of humans. 

“Dude, this is important werewolf business,” Stiles adds. Derek can hear him shifting impatiently as he walks up the stairs, and smells something acrid coming from his backpack. “Plus I’ve been practicing my lock picking, and this lock is pretty shitty, so there’s not much to stop me from just coming in.” 

Of course, ignoring Stiles doesn’t get him that satisfying jump and heart stutter when Derek comes up behind him and opens the unlocked door.

Stiles spares about a second to glare at him, before he’s barrelling inside, holding his backpack over one shoulder. “We thought of a lot of stuff — well, when I say we, I mean mostly Lydia and I, but the werewolves were good about being test dummies, so I guess they helped. Mainly we were trying to work out an arsenal that would be innocuous enough to pass by parental or teacher inspection. I mean, we can’t exactly carry around machetes or guns with wolfsbane laced bullets at school.” Stiles flashes a grin at Derek as he drops onto the couch Isaac and Boyd had brought over a couple weeks back, and spreads the contents of his backpack over the coffee table that Erica had claimed she found on the side of the road. 

“What’s all that crap?” Derek says, taking care to keep a few feet between himself and the table. He can smell wolfsbane, and mountain ash at this distance. 

“Wolfsbane mace,” Stiles holds up the little spray cannister. “Easy to carry and conceal, and nosy parents who decide to go through your stuff will be none the wiser.” He’s grinning triumphantly at Derek, waiting for him to share in his ingenuity but Derek just shrugs. 

“I’ve seen those before.” Had them used on him before. 

Stiles’ shoulders slump, barely perceptibly, but his grin stays. “Okay, okay. This is obviously a taser, nothing special there. Air Horn, super strong cologne to confuse those werewolf senses. Or whatever creature of the night we’re dealing with. Now, these,” he continues, voice picking up that same excitement, “are smoke bombs. Yeah, not exactly exciting, but. They’re pepper and menthol smoke bombs, so not only are they super annoying and good for cover, they’ll also make your eyes and nose burn if you get too close, which is obviously distracting as hell. We tested them on Scott.”

And that, Derek actually wishes he could have been around for, but he keeps his face blank. Stiles is peering up at him, waiting for some sort of response or approval. Shrugging uncomfortably, Derek points at a plastic bag peeking out from the backpack. “What’s that?”

“Ah, fireworks. The really bright kind. Not majorly intimidating, but Scott told me about those flash arrows that blinded him, so I thought this is close second. Also I have a portable strobe light!” 

“That’s really great, kid,” Derek says, because he knows how much Stiles hates being patronized. “Maybe you can startle the Alphas a bit before they tear you apart.” Stiles tries to protest, but Derek talks over him. “No. You and Lydia and everyone else are staying out of this fight. The Alphas will kill you. Do you not get that?” 

“Dude.” Stiles levels him with a look that Derek wants to turn away from. It’s one that he’s familiar with. He already knows Stiles won’t yield in this, before Stiles even says, “Yes, I get it. I could die, Scott could die, my dad could die because some disorderly drunk guy happens to have a knife on him. People die every day, what makes you so special,” Stiles bites out, shoving his mini armory back into his backpack. 

“There are more people at risk-” he begins, but Stiles actually brandishes the taser at him, and Derek crosses his arms and jerks his head for him to continue. 

“Yeah, I know.” Derek rolls his eyes and Stiles scowls at him. “I know there are. And I know them. I know Scott and Isaac, and Erica and Boyd. I know you. I’m not letting you guys die if there is anything I can do to stop it. Even Jackson doesn’t deserve that,” he says, voice rising along with his anger, before he half smiles, and adds, ”Plus Lydia would kill all of us if we let him die. Again.” 

“Forget it, Stiles! I’m not putting anyone else in danger.” 

“I will stand in a fucking circle of mountain ash and shoot them with ranged weapons if that is what it takes, okay?” Stiles’ shouts, jumping to his feet and curling his hands into fists, like that will help convince Derek of his sincerity. “I have mountain ash, I could do it.”

Derek rubs his eyes. He doesn’t want to take responsibility for this kid. The rest of his idiot teenage pack is hard enough to keep up with. But Stiles is reckless, and spews as much bullshit as he does workable ideas. Derek knows that he won’t stay out of it. At least, he tells himself, if they work together, then Derek can try and keep him alive. This way Scott and Stiles and whoever else in their little group will be working with Derek instead of being at odds with each other. 

“Fine,” Derek sighs.

“Awesome!” Stiles says, throwing his arms up. “I knew you could be reasoned with-”

Derek ignores his fist bump, curling a fist in Stiles’ shirt collar and leaning in to glare at him. “If you’re going to be involved in this, though, you listen to me.” 

“Sure, yeah, no problem.” Stiles nods, but he’s looking down at his phone and typing frantically. 

“What are you doing?” Derek asks, pushing away from Stiles. He can already guess that he won’t like it. 

“The rest of the pack is waiting at the diner down the block. We have some ideas for traps, tripwires around the forest, and we need to talk strategy, man. Tally our strengths and weaknesses. Come up with a battle plan.” Stiles grins up at him. “We are totally going to win this.” 

“You’re insane,” Derek tries, but it’s weak and Stiles’ grin says he knows it.


End file.
